


Good Men Don't Need Rules

by Spiffing



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiffing/pseuds/Spiffing
Summary: There was a reason why he was called the Oncoming Storm. AU.
Kudos: 11





	Good Men Don't Need Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This was a ramble piece I'd done in 2011.

It had been standard procedure. A standard procedure gone bad. Bad for his enemies that is; not for him of course. Well, nobody said things would run smoothly according to plan, did they? No, these were different sequences of events that followed his supposed demises. Did the Silence really think they could force death upon him? Absurd really. Not that he thinks that he is a sort of God but someone quite similar; he built his reputation of doing virtually anything for the greater good after all. But who says the Silence was the force of nature themselves? Exactly. Nobody but themselves. So really, it's all in a matter of perspectives.

See, he has been planning this for a long, long time - this friendly facade of a lonely, regretting man - ever since... well, ever since the Time War he supposed. They say war changes a person and so it did, especially to the one responsible for the deaths of so many including his own kind; just to save the rest of the innocent beings of course. He had only wanted to help. He never thought getting involved meant getting his hands dirty.

At first, he was angry. Angry at the world. Angry at the useless authorities. Angry at the supposed innocents. Angry at his own people. Angry at himself. But then it numbed down and then there was only pain: uncomfortable, ugly, twisting, pain which wrapped its blood stained fingers around his hearts and squeezed relentlessly in an iron grip. Reminding him of his failings.

After a while of seeing every person who accompanied him leave him one way or another, and after the many times he had made remarkably stupid mistakes even when he learnt from his past ones - he simply stopped caring. Or at least he no longer remembered what having no pain had felt like. There were no longer laws to govern him on what he can and can't do. He was his own person and he could do whatever the hell he pleased. And silly him, he thought he wanted it to all stop.

But of course, it felt good to be admired. It felt good to have people depending on him. So he continued on living, collecting interesting people, always being careful with his choices even when sometimes it seemed he wasn't. He chose people who were young and impressionable, who had an adventurous streak within them, and were incredibly naive of the existence of the rest of the universe. It was easy, then, to keep up with appearances. He would admit that their wide eyed curiosity never ceases to entice him. He could simply hide behind their infectious excitement and anxiety, and nobody would look further, past them and into his true intentions of having people around.

They think he's lonely. He made them think he needed the company. He didn't need anyone. He was perfectly fine on his own. Funnily enough, it wasn't difficult to pretend he felt vulnerable, and isolated. He's seen many things in his life and he has learnt to lie and act quiet well when the occasion comes up. Somehow that earned him some sympathy and more admirers. What the hell, he thought. The more weakened-heart and persuaded beings, the better for him and his so called goodness. No longer would his messing around be called meddling. They would all think he's childishly curious when in fact he was so terribly old and hasn't been curious about the hideous and boring world for a very long time.

They can't see the monster inside him, the destroyer that has always been inside him but simply waited to be released. He doesn't think he is a monster anyways after being reassured by so many that he is good. If only they knew the thoughts running through his head. If only they knew it was all just an act. But too late, he's a _good_ person now. He hasn't changed at all.

At the beginning, he hadn't wanted to be relied on. There were so many responsibilities. It was so very heavy: responsibilities. But then he became strong, he became resilient, and when there were rewards for good deeds - and even some bad which were easily dismissed as accidental miscalculations on his part he finally accepted them. In accepting them, he also collected power and now he can't resist. He has power over so many and it was difficult to relinquish because if it weren't for him, the whole universe would have been wiped out by now. Sure, he has his fair share of enemies, but he always manages to keep them as such for the rest of the occupants of this world hate them rather than him because they trust him; because it was he who supposedly protected them. So he's powerful, he 'saved' people, and therefore he could almost get away with anything and all he had to do is say his name.

He didn't know quite what to do with his anonymous life after achieving power and fame. Perhaps... Ah yes. He should have seen it coming of course. All that pain sake work on building the lovely imagine of a good man and now, he was sure, there was only one thing left to do and he was ready. Ready make a more permanent mark on the universe that would take it by surprise and horror. What did it matter on what people said and thought about him from this point on? He'll end up being the last one standing anyways, the one who survived. Survival of the fittest and he is fit. Except, for him, it wasn't really surviving. He has discretely been conquering. He had nothing to lose but his many lives which were almost up anyway. It was time to do what he was born to do, and the universe will have no evidence that it is him that will turn it upside down and inside out, imploding and exploding all at the same time because to everyone, he is a good man, and there is evidence of his good deeds, but he is a good man who is dead, and good people don't cause multiple genocides. Good people aren't cruel. Oh the irony it will be: an unknown and unstoppable enemy and their only hope in stopping him is their saviour who is unfortunately gone. He holds the most dangerous answer to the most ancient question. Besides, good men don't need rules. There was a reason why he was called the Oncoming Storm after all.


End file.
